Archive-name: Affairs/marguer.txt Archive-author: Archive-title: Marguerite Marguerite stood on her toes and craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Edouard. He had just arrived from a long business trip, and she had been very lonely without him. The 7 years they had been together had dulled neither of their passion, and she could feel the familiar wetness between her legs as she thought of lying next to his strong, muscular body again. What exciting times they had had, nights that had seemed too short to contain their ardor, and sunshine-filled days. Although he was a well-respected white businessman and she a mere quadroon woman, condemned to spend the rest of her life at the fringes of real society, he had never treated her with anything but the utmost respect. They had met at a quadroon ball, an affair especially designed to provide young men with a mistress, and young mulatto women with a provider for as long as her beauty opened his wallet. She had been eighteen then, flushed with excitement and terror as she faced the men in the room. Edouard had been captivated and so had she. Had it not been for each of their positions, she felt sure that he would have married her, but she was accepting of the fate that they shared, and she could only feel gratitude in having found such a wonderful benefactor. There he was! He bent down to give his wife Sylvie a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. She demurely dropped her head, and ducked out of the crowd, but not before intercepting a wink from her lover. She hurried back home, anxious to prepare for his arrival that evening. He arrived at about 10:00, and immediately swept her in his arms and began dancing her around the kitchen. She laughed breathlessly, feeling his excitement build up, as did her own. He kissed her face, her hands, and would have pressed his lips to her soft breasts had she not pushed him away. "But, Edouard, we have not eaten yet!" "I'm trying to, but you won't let me." "But, Edouard, I spent all night cooking for you! Surely you will have just one taste of my gumbo, eh?" "I know that you make the best gumbo in New Orleans, in the world." He knelt down and began biting at the soft flesh in front of him through the silk of her dress. "Please, I want to eat another delicacy now." She gently pushed his head away. "Dinner first." He sighed deeply, as if some grievous wrong had been done him. "All right, all right, I eat your cooking." She cuffed him affectionatley. "You make it sound like a punishment to eat my food." "I just wanted dessert first," he said. "I haven't had any in a while." He sat down at the table and began eating the generous portion in front of him. She sat on his lap and began feeding him like a child. She did this with the gumbo, then with the amaretto pie. He sucked the creamy meringue of her fingers hungrily, lighting a spark somewhere inside of her. She ran her fingers through his hair and tried to stop her heart from beating out of her chest, but he looked at her with such passion in his eyes that she melted under the heat of his gaze. Still sitting, he straddled her legs over his and began rubbing her back gently. He kissed the hollow at the base of her neck, and inserted his tongue into it, licking up and down, up and down. She moaned softly and held onto his head. His tongue moved further down into the deep cleft between her breasts. Slowly he traced back and forth in little circles, pausing to suck once on the inside of her breasts. Marguerite could feel the heat rising from between her legs. All of a sudden she felt overdressed. She began pulling at Edouard's shirt, fumbling over the buttons. He ripped her bodice open and pulled one of her dark brown nipples into his mouth, holding it with just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp for air. After finally getting his shirt off, she played with his nipples frantically, feeling them harden beneath her experienced fingers. She began grinding against his hips almost subconsciously, enrapturing them both in a rhythm older than time. He faltered in his suction, and whispered gutturally, "Time for dessert, eh?" She could only nod her head. He carried her to the bedroom and almost threw her on the bed. His hands reached for her, and pulled her lips to his. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, delving deeper and deeper, tasting the depths of his mouth. They paused for breath, panting in their exertion, and he began again, torturously, to suck on her breasts. He kissed first one then the other reverently and began flicking at her taut nipples with his tongue. She quivered with delight and begged for him to release her, but the look in his eyes told her that he intended on driving her out of her mind. His tongue dipped lower and lower, tracing little whorls on her stomach, dipping into her belly button, then wettinh the hairs on her pussy. He teased the area around her clitoris, inserting his tongue in the soft folds of her pussy lips. Just when it seemed he would stroke her clit with his tongue, he began licking lower still, in between her thighs. Mad with pleasure, she tried to push his face into her cunt, but he just continued his ministrations. Her juices flowed freely between her legs now, and he began licking them up. She bucked her hips against his head, and finally he began stroking her tumescent clit with his tongue, pulling it into his mouth. She nearly died from the pleasure, and tried to push his whole face into her cunt. He gladly acquiesced, rubbing his face between her legs until she almost screamed with pleasure. Then he withdrew, to her dismay, and began building her up slowly. He did this repeatedly, until finally he could stand it no longer and he went down on her with a fury. She did scream now in the midst of multiple orgasms. It was a long time before she drifted back to earth, but when she did, she realized that he had removed his pants and was rubbing his engorged penis back and forth across her slick clitoris. She allowed him to enter only the tip, then pulled him out and continued rubbing him against her. Then she allowed him to enter a little more, but again it was only a tease as she pulled him out and continued the rhythm. He kept going deeper and deeper until he was filling the inside of her vagina totally, then pulling back. He bucked hard against her, slamming her violently into the bed. She welcomed each thrust, and matched it with her own uncontroll- able ardor. Her legs twined around his back as he came with ferocity inside of her. They lay there panting and sweating for several long minutes as his erection slowly died. Quietly, Marguerite began the path down to his penis with her hands and her mouth. She did not leave any territory uncovered, and when she finally reached her destination, she took all of him into her mouth, feeling him grow without her doing anything. She then shifted him around and began focusing on the tip, pulling and sucking hard on it. She then began sucking him slowly, inch by inch, until with one last hard suck, he went into her throat. Now it was his turn to grab her hair and pull her face into his skin. When she felt him about to come, she released him and let him subside for a few minutes, then deep-throated him hard and fast. She wanted him to experience the same blend of pain-pleasure that he had given her, and from the look on his face, she was accomplishing this admirably. She went on like this until even drawing back could no longer hold him. Thick gobs of sperm squirted the back of her throat, and even after he had stopped pumping, she sucked the come from his soft penis. Exhausted and sated, they lay together in each other's arms until dawn told them that Sylvie waited at home and he had a business to run. They dressed quietly and kissed each other softly, for they knew that there would be other days. --